


Time, Space, and Other Things That Don't Matter

by somnivagrantTraviatus



Series: Time, Space, and Other Things That Don't Matter [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, I'm not continuing this but if anyone else wants to feel free!, Papyrus would make an excellent Doctor fight me, Reader is an art student, Reader's sex and gender are unassigned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:34:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6843145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnivagrantTraviatus/pseuds/somnivagrantTraviatus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That box definitely wasn't there yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time, Space, and Other Things That Don't Matter

The box was almost certainly not there yesterday. In fact, you were positive it hadn’t been there even half an hour ago, when you had gone out for your lunch break. And yet, despite everything, there it is, sitting casually just outside your place of employment like it’s been there all along.

Obviously, something funny is going on here.

Is the box some high schooler’s idea of a prank? Maybe there's a new TV show in town, ready and waiting to film people’s reactions to some weird box appearing out of nowhere. Or maybe this is just phase one of an alien plot to invade Earth. You can practically see the poster for that B-movie: “Invasion from Another World!”, scrawled proudly over the box as it floats above a typical suburb, bright beams emitting from it in every direction and a frightened looking straight, white couple on the bottom right. Underneath the title, in smaller letters: “First came the boxes. Then, they boxed us in!”

You can't help but laugh a little at the idea after doodling it on a napkin. You've added a surprised cow being pulled up by one of the tractor beams coming from the box, its expression made all the more comical by how scribbly its body is and the ridiculousness of the whole scenario. It's just a box, after all.

Still…

Glancing at the clock, you make a decision and pull on your jacket and bag, leaving the doodle on the counter. It's two thirty on a Tuesday, and your shift, the same shift you've done three days every week for half a year now, is just as uneventful as always. No one will care if you nip out to take a quick look at the box across the street. Besides, if it really is part of an alien invasion, it's practically your duty to check it out! If innocent cows started getting kidnapped by tractor beams because you were too busy doing nothing at the register, you'd never forgive yourself.

Of course, you'd tell yourself anything to justify leaving the coffee shop. No matter how rewarding all the coffee shop AUs make the job look, staring out the window for hours on end while the clock ticks behind you is soul sucking.

The box is small, maybe telephone booth-sized, though you've never stood next to one of those in person before, so you can't say for sure. White writing on a black strip around the top proclaims it to be a “POLICE PUBLIC CALL BOX”, and there’s a small icon stenciled on the middle right panel. It looks like a winged circle flying over three triangles. You have absolutely no idea what that means, but it looks cool. Opposite the icon is a sign. It looks like it used to say “PULL TO OPEN”, but somebody’s crossed out the “PULL” and written “push” above it in round, dark handwriting. Below that is some smaller text. Squinting at it, you're able to read the following:

“YOU INSPECT THE STRANGE, BLUE BOX. ‘WHO COULD LAY CLAIM TO THIS MAGNIFICENT STRUCTURE?’ YOU WONDER. ‘PERHAPS IT IS THAT TALL, UNIVERSALLY ACCLAIMED HERO!’ (NOTE: NOT YET A UNIVERSALLY ACCLAIMED HERO.)”

Uh. Okay.

Checking to make sure no one is in sight, you gingerly grasp one of the handles and push. To your surprise, the door easily swings open, and the extra momentum leaves you falling into the box. After recovering from your stumble, you look up…

And find yourself in an enormous, bronze room.

The pillar in the center of the room, surrounded by an eclectic console the likes of which you've never seen, draws your attention for quite a while. Finally, though, you manage to shake yourself out of your stupor and bring your logical reasoning back online. A room like this, inside a box like that? “It’s impossible,” you breathe, ducking back out of the doors and staring uncomprehendingly at the unassuming box. You can walk all the way around it in less than fifteen steps, but when you push past the doors, you’re once again met with the same massive, metallic room. Maybe it's a hologram? But no, it takes you twenty steps to get to the console, footsteps clanking quietly against the grating, and when you lay a hand over the buttons, they feel firm and solid under your fingers. A gentle pinch to the back of your hand convinces you to face facts: this box, somehow, is bigger on the inside.

“I have got to draw this,” you breathe.

“gotta admit, that was not was i was expecting you to say.”

Startled by the unexpected voice, you whirl around. The short skeleton leaning against the door winks at you. “so, what are you doing in my bro’s tardis?”

“A… TARDIS?” you repeat hesitantly. God, it even sounds alien. Your interplanetary invasion theory is getting more and more plausible. “Is that what this is called? I thought it was a police box.”

The skeleton shrugs. “eh. same difference.”

“Okay? Well, it wasn't here before, so when I noticed it, I thought I'd check it out. I've never seen a police box before, so I was curious to see what the inside looked like, but, uh…” You gesture at the expansive room behind you. “I get the feeling most police boxes don't look like this.”

He (he? You're guessing he's a ‘he’) snorts. “nah, you'd be right about that.” He sticks his hands in his pockets and takes a few lazy steps towards you. “but, see, the thing is, those doors were locked. so how did you manage to get in?”

You back up against the console. The skeleton doesn't seem threatening, with his faded hoodie and the untied bow tie hanging limply against his sloppily-buttoned shirt, but you're pretty sure he's an alien of some sort (given that he's, well, a skeleton), and you've managed to somehow trespass onto his (well, his brother’s) private property. Who knows what he could do to you? “I just followed the sign,” you explain, trying to sound confident and failing.

“the sign?”

“Yeah, you know. ‘push.’”

“and the doors opened for you?” The skeleton’s grin doesn’t falter, but you could swear the lights in his eyes flicker for a second before he glares over your head at the pillar behind you. “of course they did. ugh, that's just what we need.”

“BROTHER? I HAVE RETURNED WITH THE SUPPLIES!” proclaims a loud voice from outside the door. Another skeleton pokes his head in, grinning broadly. Then he notices you, prompting an excited gasp. “SANS! YOU HAD A GUEST OVER WITHOUT TELLING ME?”

“nah,” the first skeleton is quick to say. “this one got curious and decided to follow me home.” His eye lights flick back to you, as if daring you to say anything to the contrary. You decide not to risk it.

But being polite never hurt anyone, right? Ignoring the weight of the shorter skeleton’s watchful gaze, you step up to the newcomer, offer him a hand, and introduce yourself. 

“SO POLITE!” the tall skeleton gasps, gently placing the bags he’s carrying down on the ground before grabbing your hand with both his and pumping it up and down. “IT IS VERY NICE TO MEET YOU, HUMAN! I AM THE DOCTOR. DID MY BROTHER INTRODUCE HIMSELF ALREADY?”

“No, not exactly,” you’re forced to admit.

The Doctor crosses his arms and huffs. “OF COURSE HE DIDN’T. SANS, STOP BEING LAZY AND INTRODUCE YOURSELF THIS INSTANT!”

“sure thing, bro,” the short skeleton agrees with a grin. You're beginning to suspect that grin is permanent. “i’m the assistant.”

You furrow your brow. The Doctor doesn't give you a chance to ask, though, noticing your perplexed expression and explaining, “IT IS DEMEANING, HAVING TO SHOUT ‘ASSISTANT’ ANY TIME I WISH TO SPEAK WITH MY BROTHER. SO, BEING AS GREAT AS I AM, I DECIDED TO GIVE HIM A NICKNAME!”

A nickname? Wait, that sign… The round handwriting, maybe? “So, it’s Sans like Comic Sans? Because of his handwriting?” you venture. Actually, thinking back to it, there were two different kinds of handwriting on the sign. And you're pretty sure you know what font the other one looked like. “Would that make you Papyrus, then?”

Sans raises his eyebrow ridges. “you’ve got a good eye, kid,” he says, sounding guardedly pleased. “how’d you piece that together?”

“I'm an art student. I've spent a lot of time staring at fonts,” you explain. Plus, there's the fact that those are two of the most notorious fonts in existence. Oh, yes, you are well acquainted with Comic Sans and Papyrus.

“huh. looks like you're a regular font of knowledge,” Sans nods.

You facepalm, fighting the smile that’s fighting to spread over your face. “Of course. You're a comic.”

“yep,” Sans agrees cheerfully, over the Doctor’s exasperated, “DON’T ENCOURAGE HIM!” He continues, “and my bro’s got a _paper thin_ temper.”

That one makes you snort, and the Doctor groans, easily shouldering the two bags of supplies at his feet and pushing past the two of you. “I AM GOING TO PUT THESE AWAY IN THE KITCHEN, WHERE THERE WILL NOT BE ANY HORRIBLE JOKES.”

“Wait, there’s a kitchen in here, too?” you ask, craning your head around the console. All you can see is this one room. “How big is this thing, anyway?”

The Doctor stops, looking at you affrontedly over one bulging bag. “MY BROTHER HAS NOT EXPLAINED THE NATURE OF THIS SHIP TO YOU YET?”

“ _Ship?_ ”

“nah,” Sans answers, raising an amused eyebrow ridge at you. “was waiting on you to get back to make that decision.”

“MORE LIKE, WAS WAITING FOR ME TO GET BACK SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO,” the Doctor grumbles, surprising another snort out of you. He puts the bags down again and spins to face you, holding out his hands wide. “WELL THEN, HUMAN, ALLOW ME TO BE THE FIRST TO WELCOME YOU TO THE TARDIS! WITH THIS MACHINE, MADE BIGGER ON THE INSIDE WITH ADVANCED TECHNOLOGY FROM OUR HOME PLANET, MY BROTHER AND I VISIT EVERYWHERE AND EVERYWHEN, EXPLORING THE UNIVERSE AND FOILING THE DASTARDLY SCHEMES OF VILLAINS WHEREVER, AND WHENEVER, WE COME ACROSS THEM.” He strikes a pose, folding a hand dramatically under his chin and staring off into the distance. “A LIFE LIKE THIS… IT IS DANGEROUS AND DIFFICULT, TRUE, BUT WHEN WE LEAVE A WORLD A BETTER PLACE, SPREADING SMILES ACROSS GALAXIES AND ALLOWING TORMENTED PEOPLE TO ONCE AGAIN LIVE WITHOUT FEAR, I KNOW THIS LIFE IS WORTH IT...”

He keeps going on like this as Sans saunters up next to you and whispers, “so what do you think of my bro?”

“He’s so passionate,” you answer just as quietly, watching as the Doctor continues to speechify. “You can really hear how much he cares about what he's saying. He'd make a great subject for a painting… His lines of action are just so dynamic.”

“dynamic, huh?” Sans grins, eyes bright as he watches his brother gesture widely. “yeah, sounds about right.”

“...AND SO, HUMAN,” the Doctor says, making you jump guiltily, “THAT IS WHY I HAVE DECIDED TO OFFER YOU A PLACE ABOARD OUR SHIP. WHAT DO YOU SAY? WILL YOU JOIN US ON OUR MISSION TO SPREAD PEACE AMONGST THE STARS?”

You turn to the doors, now closed against the outside world. A time and space traveling starship? You're still not sure how much of that you believe, and you really should be finishing your shift at the coffee shop. What if someone shows up and you're not there to take their order? Besides, all this stuff he’s talking about, the foiling schemes and exploring the universe stuff… You're just an ordinary college student. What would _you_ be doing in the future, or on another planet?

Ultimately, though, that's what decides you. If the alien skeleton creatures decide they want you, of all people, to help them spread their message of galactic peace or whatever, who are you to tell them they chose wrong? You turn to the Doctor. “You said this is a time machine, right?”

“I DID,” he confirms.

“So you can have me back here before my 9 o’clock tomorrow?” you press.

Sans looks unimpressed. “kid, we could have you back five minutes ago. making your college class would be no sweat.”

A grin spreads over your face, and you take a step forward, putting your back toward the mundane life waiting for you outside those doors. “Then I'm in.”

The brothers grin at you, and the Doctor clasps his hands together happily. “WONDERFUL! ARE YOU READY TO LEAVE NOW?”

“I think so,” you answer. “I should be good to go whenever you are.” Your sketchbook’s in your bag. Anything else can come later.

“EXCELLENT! SANS, IF YOU WOULD DO THE HONORS?”

“fine. just this once.” He turns to you. “got any place or time you wanna see, kid?”

“Too many,” you answer breathlessly.

He laughs. “yeah, that's the problem with having all of space and time at your fingertips,” he agrees. “i’ll just put it on random, then. less work that way.”

“Sounds good.”

With a wheezing, groaning whine, the TARDIS flickers in and out of view, then vanishes. You’re off to see the stars.

And the only clue you've left behind sits innocently on the counter by the register, waiting to be discovered.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find my interpretation of what the bros would look like in this AU [here!](http://twixtandshout.tumblr.com/post/144319018052/doctor-who-x-undertale-crossover-doctor-who-x)
> 
> Like I said in the tags, I'm not going to continue this. But if you're interested, I'd love to toss ideas back and forth with you! :3


End file.
